


Official

by Lightspeed



Series: Monstrous Intent [24]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Blow Jobs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dullahan!Soldier, Dullahans, Faun!Scout, Fauns & Satyrs, First Dates, Fluff, Frottage, Garuda - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Peeping, Pet Names, Romance, Secret Relationship, Shower Sex, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, garuda!Medic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 03:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2492942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fresh from their “adventure” in New Jersey, new travels fast about how close Demoman and Sniper seem to be acting.  A night out to dinner after work and some scandalous talk from Medic has Scout curious, so he and Soldier decide to find out for sure once they get back.</p><p>(update: fixes and minor edits; lord I posted this on lack of sleep it was terrible and I apologise)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Official

"Heya, Doc, you seen Demo an' Snipes?" Scout asked, setting his bathing supplies on the built-in shelf on the shower wall.

Medic stood beside him at his own spot, letting the water run down his aching back to soothe sore muscles. His avian aspects were hidden by magic, his body given human form with a simple alteration spell to make work a simpler task. The doctor had yet to figure out methods for wearing shirts, let alone his coat, with his new-found wings, and work on his new medipack straps was slow. All the same, he was glad work was over. Re-casting the spell with each respawn was a nightmare, and once clean he could dismiss the transmutation and enjoy the familiar weight on his back. He didn't need to be showering. He could easily just cast a quick cleaning spell, but the heat of the water was a daily ritual he was loathe to surrender. "They came in here immediately after the match ended. In fact, they did not even stay for Humiliation."

The work day had been quick, a series of intelligence captures that saw BLU seizing the victory in each round with swift efficiency. Scout had capped most of the scores, but Spy and Demoman had helped pick up the slack where he'd gotten caught up or worse, tripped and fell. Incidences of his feet getting the better of him in the maze of gravel and wood were fewer and further between, but nonetheless were frustrating for the faun. "Shit, an' Demo loves the humiliation round! So where're they now?"

"I do not know. They showered and were leaving as I entered, but I assume we will not see much of them on base this evening."

"Why do you say that?" Scout asked, lathering up his hair and fur with shampoo.

"Let us just say I saw something yesterday while they were in mein infirmary," Medic grinned.

Upon their retrieval from the hospital in Egg Harbor City, Demoman and Sniper had spent the remainder of the day in the infirmary, wheeled in on gurneys to be tended by the mad doctor.

"Their injuries were very severe und very disfiguring, so I had to try und repair the damage with as little permanent alteration as possible. Since they'd already begun to heal naturally, und the medigun does not do so well with minimizing scarring unless the wound is fresh, to spare them severe disfigurement, I had to re-open the wounds," Medic explained, matter-of-factly, watching with amusement as Scout cringed. "Well, anyway, I had to prepare the surgery since I'd been doing spellwork in there, so they stayed in the infirmary until it was ready for them. Which left then alone but immobile for quite some time."

"And?"

"I do not think they noticed me when I looked in, but I happened to catch them reaching across the short gap between their gurneys to hold hands." Medic's smile was soft, fond, thinking of his Heavy as he recalled their tender moment.

"Holdin' hands? Like, actually lovey-dovey shit?" Scout was incredulous. "No way, seriously?"

"It is true. I have to wonder if perhaps their brush with death has rearranged their priorities."

"Ho-lee shit, Doc! Oh man I gotta find out for sure! This is huge!"

"It truly is! I wish you had seen mein work. There is barely a new scar to be seen on either! Just a few scratches on Demoman's back, Sniper's arm, und a stroke across Sniper's chest. It barely even interrupts his hair growth," the doctor beamed.

"Not what I was talkin' about, but, uh, good job," Scout hemmed, shrugging. "So you wanna fuck me before I use the conditioner?"

Medic pondered for a moment. He hadn't soaped up yet, just rinsed and washed his hair. Didn't seem like a bad time. "Alright, face the wall."  
  
*  
  


Demoman smiled so hard he was sure his face would split. Sniper wasn't kidding when he'd said he intended to look his best for this, their first official date.

A date. With Mick "the Sniper" Mundy.

He could hardly believe it, his insides fluttering like a young lad with his first crush.

For all of his rough, bushman's facade, there was something behind Sniper's talk of professionalism. Striding out of the base to meet Demoman at the parking lot, the assassin looked the very part of a worldly man of business and danger in equal measure. His shirt was dark, midnight blue, with a lighter navy tie in a Windsor knot. His slacks were charcoal grey with nary a wrinkle in sight, and were tailored to hug his slim hips in a way that accentuated his small, but shapely backside. He wore a pair of boots, similar to his usual set, but far better taken care of, with fewer scuffs, scrapes, and repairs done to the rigid brown leather. His hat was ever-present, but he'd eschewed his sunglasses for the evening, baring his narrow eyes to the dying light of the early fall twilight. He looked dashing, not quite done up, but far from the usual functionality of his work and comfort clothes.

Demoman fancied he was far cuter in his pajamas, a pair of threadbare grey sweatpants that the assassin tended to wander shirtless around the base wearing before he'd had his morning coffee. He chuckled a little at the dichotomy between polished the gentleman before him and the bed-headed, unshaven, barely sapient bushman sasquatch-walking through the halls to mess.

"What's so funny?" Sniper asked, enjoying the sight of his kilt and white dress shirt clad date, long socks hugging his strong calves.

"Just thinkin' o' how cute ye are," Demoman soothed with a smile. As they met, they embraced, coming together in a short kiss that warmed them both. Leaning back against his car, a deep blue Bristol 408, the Scot noticed a silver pin, a tie tack, near the base of the bushman's navy tie. It was shaped like a tree. "Lovely pin. Is that eucalyptus?"

"Oh, er, yeh. My dad gave it to me when I left home. I left on good terms. 'e was proud of me until 'e found out I shoot blokes for a livin'. But yeh, he gave me this pin. So I'd never forget my roots."

"A tree."

"My dad is a master of bad jokes like that," Sniper chuckled fondly. "Worst is 'e tells 'em straight-faced, too."

"Me da was like that, too," Demoman smiled, a bit sadly. "Mum's the serious one. Da always said he was too busy to be worryin' all the time like her. Still always made time tae sneak in a fart joke at the perfect time and make me almost choke on me drink."

"You think it's parenthood or is that how every bloke turns out?"

"Ye'll know if I ever start investin' in whoopie cushions," Demoman shrugged, lifting his keys. "Shall I drive?"

"After Jersey I'll be glad to stay out of my van a few days, no matter how much I love the thing," the Australian agreed.

"Too true," the Scot agreed, sliding into the car and patting the seat beside him, smiling as Sniper sat down and leaned heavily upon the arm rest that separated them. He chuckled, nudging Demoman's shoulder with his head before relaxing into an upright position. "So let's be off, then. There's a place nae far from me and Mum's house that understands the meanin' o' rare steak, if ye like."

Sniper grinned. "You know me too well. 'ow's their veg?" The bushman always judged the quality of a restaurant by how much it tortured its greenery.

"Well seasoned, never too much sauce, crisp where it should be, melts when it's expected to. Their sweet potato mash is pure evil." The Scot licked his lips at the thought.

"Perfect, let's go. I'm famished."

"Aye, me too. Never enough breakfast tae go around, and that hospital food was rubbish, and too scant," Demoman complained, starting the car and throwing it into gear. They pulled out of the lot together and found their way to the road, to travel the cracked, abandoned desert roads in search of a meal alone together.

"Hospital water always tastes good, though."

"Aye, never sure why that is."  
  
*  
  
"They been gone for HOURS," Scout grumbled, his cheek pressed against Soldier's inner thigh. "How the hell am I supposed to find out if they're really datin' if they're on their date forever?"

The older man's quarters were dark, save the light of the moon and stars through the window, and Soldier grunted noncommittally, still hazy from his orgasm. "It sounds like you have your answer already."

"No way!" Scout shot up onto his elbows, leaning over the dullahan's softening cock with a frown. "They disappear together all the time! But if Snipes is finally, like, together-together with Demo and didn't tell me, he's gonna get it! You don't leave your best buddy in the dark like that, man!"

"Maybe they want to keep it secret."

"So? I can keep a secret! I'm the best at secrets!"

"Is that how I know Demoman is a werewolf?"

The faun deflated. "You are way to freakin' lucid for a guy who just came so hard it blew the lightbulbs."

Soldier sat up, craning forward to level his headless gaze at Scout. "And you talk a lot for a man who just spent forty five minutes using his mouth to make that happen."

Scout smirked at that. Okay, he had a point. "Yeah, yeah. I'm bored. Wanna go for a run?"

"It is twenty-one hundred hours," Soldier replied. "We should be going to sleep."

"Yeah, well, a little lack 'a sleep never killed no one. Plus, you don't even need sleep! You're not alive!"

"I do not need to eat either and I still do that. Undeath is no reason to deprive yourself!"

Scout grinned at that and used a knuckle to rub idly at the dullahan's balls. "Yeah, s'pose that's true. But c'mon, I don't wanna go to bed until Snipes an' Demo are back, but I know I'll fall asleep if I just lay here. Or I'll just spend all night fuckin' you an' still miss 'em."

"You are not making a good case for getting me up."

"Run with me an' I'll fuck your neck-hole when we get back. I know how much you like that." The faun grinned, tail wagging mischievously.

Soldier considered this a moment. "Okay."  
  
*  
  


"A fine meal," Demoman mumbled for the third time since they'd left the restaurant, still mesmerized by the near-magical things the chef had been able to do with a few chops of lamb loin, some crisp apples, and some fig compote. He opened the door to his quarters and stepped aside, allowing Sniper entry as he flicked the light on.

"That it was," the bushman agreed, strolling in ahead of his lover with a satisfied smile. He was full of beef, bacon, and brussels sprouts; a content man if there ever was one.

Sniper stretched out along the length of Demoman's bunk, his knees unleashing a series of cracking sounds as he tensed, then relaxed. A fresh assortment of pops sounded from his back as he tensed once more, arching up off the mattress as he did.

"Good lord, ye poppin' corn over there?" Demoman asked as he finished unbuttoning his dress shirt. The Scot tossed it into his hamper and turned to look at his lover.

The bushman reclined in a way that spoke to comfort, not any attempt to seduce. His arms were folded beneath his head, legs crossed at the ankles, and he'd already lost his shirt, undershirt, and trousers, cozying in wearing only a set of silk boxers. "Spend your days crouched in one place for hours and see 'ow you sound," he teased, sparing a glance to eye up the undressing Scot.

"O' course, nae like I spend me days sticky jumpin' or catchin' concussions. Spring chicken, that's me," Demoman teased. "So ye wore some fancy knickers for yer big date with yer new lad?"  
  
"Silk feels nice. Not like I need to impress."  
  
"I'm impressed alright. Impressed ye bothered to wear pants at all, considerin' how rare a phenomenon that is," the Scot laughed, stripping to his own underwear and joining Sniper on the bed.

"You're one to talk," Sniper chuckled, slipping a hand up the leg of Demoman's boxers to squeeze at his ass, grabbing a comfortable handful of his warm flesh with a sharp-toothed smile. "Don't often see much of your pants."

"That's because they're usually in me trousers or crumpled on the floor," the bomber grinned, arching against the rangy Australian as he was groped. "I actually wear 'em at some point in the day, however. In fact, only cause I had tae wear them tonight was it was so bloody windy I didn't want tae be arrested."

"Ah, pants are overrated. I much prefer easy access." To illustrate his point, Sniper slipped his hand out of Demoman's boxers and tugged them down over his ass by the waistband, sliding an arm underneath him to reach around with both hands and grope him more thoroughly.

"Mmm, that ye do. It does make a lovely sight, too." Demoman leaned into his lover, throwing his arms around the bushman's shoulders and sealing their lips.

Warmth spread between them as their bodies melted together, holding one another close as their mouths opened, tongues caressed, and smiles tugged at their lips through the entirety of the kiss. Their legs tangled together, toes tickling at one another and teasing through leg hair. Sniper's hands traced the fresh scars along the Scot's back, slipping up to his shoulders to hold him close, Demoman's fingers tangling in the bushman's short hair. They laughed a bit, giddiness electric between them, humming as a palpable energy. Neither had to hold back, to watch himself, his actions. Neither had to hide how he felt, to keep himself in check to avoid showing his hand. They were free to be together, to be in love, to be happy.

When their kiss broke, their breath shallow and rushed, Demoman dove nose-first into Sniper's chest, curling in to nuzzle along the lines that remained, drawn across his hairy flesh. "I'm so sorry ye had tae go through that, Mickey."

"Worth it in the end," Sniper hummed, a goofy smile drawn across his thin face. "Mickey?"

"Aye, what of it?" The bushman could feel his lover's grin against his chest.

"It's cute, is all. No one calls me Mickey but my mum."

"Ye dinnae like it?"  
  
"I never said that."

"Good, because I like it, Mickey. Unless ye want some other pet names."

"Oh? Like what?" Sniper scratched idly at Demoman's scalp, hitching himself up higher on the bomber's body to give him better access to his chest, slinging a leg over his boyfriend's hip.

"I dinnae ken. How about Dee?"

"Dee?"

"Short for Mundy. I'm so used tae callin' ye that."

"Good God."

"What?"

"That's _adorable._ "

Demoman laughed and swatted at Sniper's shoulder. "Well then ye have two now, Mickey."

"Two pet names in as many days? I need to catch up," Sniper mumbled through a grin so hard his cheeks hurt.

"That ye do. Get tae it. On yer bike."

The bushman looked about a bit, wondering how difficult it would be to untangle himself from Demoman and climb out the window to freedom.

"And dinnae even  _think_ about climbin' out the window!"

"Fuck."

A fit of laughter conquered the mercenaries, who quickly fell back into kisses, Sniper tilting Demoman's chin up to meet his. What fools they'd been, to fear this.

 

*

 

"Hey Helmet, hold up!" Scout called, slowing to a halt. The base was dark, save for the outdoor lights around the perimeter of the safe zone's property. He and Soldier had completed a lap around the property as a brisk jog in the chilly night air, hoping to burn off some of the faun's energy. But when a light through the window caught Scout's attention, suddenly running didn't matter anymore.

It was the hall where their quarters were. Demoman's quarters, specifically. They were back.

"They're back!" the faun crowed as Soldier caught up to him, neck swiveling to follow his line of sight.

"You think they're both in there?"

"Of course they are! A night out, fancy dinner, takin' Demo's car, not Snipes' shitty van? They're totally finishin' the night by gettin' busy! Come on!" The faun took off for the base.

"You want to peep on them?" Soldier followed all the same as Scout headed inside, making a bee-line for the second floor hall that held their quarters.

 

*

 

"I cannae believe this is real," Demoman sighed. He and Sniper had shifted, the bushman on his back, bomber at his side, slotted against him with his head resting above his armpit. An arm and leg were thrown over the rangy assassin, holding him close. It was a position they often took up post-coitus, but now there was far more meaning to the gesture, to the closeness. If not more meaning, then decidedly more honesty. Demoman's insides churned like an excited teenager.

"You keep sayin' that," Sniper teased. He felt the same, but couldn't help his amusement at the Scot's repeated affirmation. For a pair so seemingly casual about their sex life before, the sudden butterflies and giddiness that the new relationship brought made things so much more different, in the best of ways. It would be silly if it weren't so comfortable. "I can't believe you still have the energy to talk so bloody much. I'm knackered."

"Aye, me too. But I'm not ready tae sleep, either."

"Yeh, same. Wanna shag?"

"Ye sure yer okay tae? After... ye ken?"

"Doc fixed me up fine. You took me to dinner, so it seems appropriate," Sniper grinned, scratching through Demoman's curls.

"I'd never say nae tae ye," the Scot breathed, rolling onto the bushman to straddle his hips, pushing himself up onto his elbows in the sheets. They shared a grin and a kiss, deepening breaths in the quiet room, Sniper's hands roving over his lover's shoulders and back.

"You're gorgeous."

"Nae, ye." Demoman shifted, feeling himself beginning to grow hard, stiffening as Sniper joined him, soft moans passing between them.

"Take a bloody compliment," Sniper teased, grabbing a handful of Demoman's ass.

"I will when ye do."

"We'll be here all night."

"Sounds like fun tae me."

"Know what would be even more fun?" the bushman panted, arching up against his lover's hips.

"What would that be?"

"If we got these pants the hell off and I could feel all of you against me."

"Good plan."

 

*

 

"Shh, move over!" Scout hissed, settling in on his haunches in front of Demoman's bedroom door. He shouldered Soldier out of the way, carefully tilting his head to keep his antlers from hitting the wooden surface as he peered into the keyhole of the door. Privately, he thanked the lazy workmanship of BLU for not replacing the locks and knobs on the bunk doors since probably the first base was built, the old-fashioned keyhole allowing him a pinhole glance into the Scotsman's quarters.

The lights were on, still, which was a bit surprising, but what caught him far stronger was the scent wafting from under the door. Pheromones, strong and familiar, and Scout could feel himself reacting to it a bit, his senses getting a little sharper with arousal. Sniper and Demoman were definitely in there.

He angled his head, trying to change his vantage a bit, and then he had it: the bed. He could two pairs of legs, one astride the other, brown and peach flexing and straining and digging into the mattress as it squeaked gently with their languid movements. Soft groans leaked through the door, backed up by gasping breaths and sighs. They were having sex, as was to be expected. Slow, unhurried sex. Not very typical for the fiery lovers.

"Let me see!" Soldier demanded, shoving Scout out of the way to take up a spot in front of the keyhole. He sat there a moment, unmoving, blank space in front of the doorknob. "...why did I move you?"

"Why _did_ you move me?" Scout asked, annoyed. He climbed behind Soldier, leaning heavily on his back and shoulders as he shoved his face through the space where the dullahan's head would be, putting his eye back to the keyhole. "Aww yeah, get it, Demo."

"Quit poking me in the back," Soldier grumbled, feeling the faun's growing arousal.

"Shh!"

Sniper gasped, clawing into Demoman's back, bucking up against him with a shudder. "Fuck! You're amazing! Bloody brilliant! I love you, Tav," he groaned, crumpling in and nosing into the bomber's neck to leave shaky kisses. He was close already.

"I love ye," Demoman echoed, redoubling his thrusts against the bushman, one hand wrapped around their cocks, the other bracing himself against the mattress. He rained soft smooches on the Australian's forehead, urging him up for another kiss. "I love ye so much."

"So much," Sniper gasped, quaking as his orgasm shot through him, groaned out across Demoman's tongue.

"God!" the Scot grunted, following his lover over the edge, mixing their seed on their bellies and in his hand. He collapsed atop Sniper, a loopy smile creasing his lips.

They lay there in silence, grinning and panting, arms loosely wrapped around one another.

"Did you hear that?" Scout asked, bouncing with excitement. "Did you fuckin' hear that?"

"I heard!" Soldier hissed, trying to ignore the erection jabbing him in the shoulderblade. "They said it!"

"About freakin' time!" Scout's whispers were nearly shouts, cracking and hissing in his glee.

"Gentlemen."

The faun and dullahan turned at the sound of a new voice behind them. It was Spy. The colour drained from Scout's face, and would have, if Soldier had one.

"Peeping on Demoman and Sniper? That is very, very rude," the rogue hummed, his voice even and terse. "They've been through quite a bit, and deserve a bit of privacy, don't you think?"

"Uh, Spy, it's not how it looks--"

"It looks to me like the two of you are infringing upon my class description. Now make yourselves scarce before I alert those two to their audience. I'm sure they'll have a fine punishment fit for your crimes."

"Uh, yeah, uh, no need for any of that, Spy," Scout assured, standing and backing away toward his quarters. "None at all, we were just goin', weren't we, Sol?"

"Are we still going to have sex tonight?" Soldier asked plainly, climbing to his feet.

"How about we talk about that in my room? Away from Spy. Not here." Scout shuffled away down the hall, not turning his back on Spy as he opened his door and slipped inside, closing it after Soldier followed behind.

Spy snickered once the offending mercenaries were gone. The nerve, spying on the new boyfriends like a couple of cut-rate peeping toms. He cast a glance to either side and knelt before the door, peering through the lock as he switched his cloak on.

"Quite the show," he laughed to himself, seeing Demoman cleaning up while Sniper wandered over to hit the light, softening cock bobbing with each step. "So it is official, then."

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for Demo's pet name for Sniper, "Dee", goes to Docteurfail.
> 
> Thanks for the idea for Demo's car goes to sirfacepunch23.


End file.
